gruff with emotion, ‘that’s what I am, marked by God!’
‘Mad as a hare, ‘ Tom Garrard muttered.
‘Did you speak, Sharpie!’ Hakeswill whipped around to stare at Sharpe, but Sharpe was so palpably still and staring mutely ahead that his innocence was indisputable. Hakeswill paced back down the Light Company. ‘I have watched men die, better men than any of you pieces of scum, proper men, but God has spared me! So you do what I says, boys, or else you’ll be carrion. ‘ He abruptly thrust the musket back into Sharpe’s hands. ‘Clean weapon, Sharpie. Well done, lad. ‘ He paced smartly away and Sharpe, to his surprise, saw that the scrap of rag had been neatly retied about the lock.
The compliment to Sharpe had astonished all the Light Company. ‘He’s in a rare good mood, ‘ Garrard said.
I heard that, Private Garrard!’ Hakeswill shouted over his shoulder. ‘Got ears in the back of me head, I have. Silence now. Don’t want no heathen horde thinking you’re frit! You’re white men, remember, bleached in the cleansing blood of the bleeding lamb, so no bleeding talking in the ranks! Nice and quiet, like them bleeding nuns what never utters a sound on account of having had their papist tongues cut out. ‘ He suddenly crashed to attention once again and saluted by bringing his spear-tipped halberd across his body. ‘Company all present, sir!’ he shouted in a voice that must have been audible on the enemy-held ridge. ‘All present and quiet, sir! Have their backs whipped bloody else, sir. ‘
Lieutenant William Lawford curbed his horse and nodded at Sergeant Hakeswill. Lawford was the Light Company’s second officer, junior to Captain Morris and senior to the brace of young ensigns, but he was newly arrived in the battalion and was as frightened of Hakeswill as were the men in the ranks. ‘The men can talk, Sergeant, ‘ Lawford observed mildly. ‘The other companies aren’t silent. ‘
‘No, sir. Must save their breath, sir. Too bleeding hot to talk, sir, and besides, they got heathens to kill, sir, mustn’t
waste breath on chit-chat, not when there are black-faced heathens to kill, sir. Says so in the scriptures, sir. ‘
‘If you say so, Sergeant, ‘ Lawford said, unwilling to provoke a confrontation, then he found he had nothing else to say and so, awkwardly aware of the scrutiny of the Light Company’s seventy-six men, he stared at the enemy-held ridge. But he was also conscious of having ignominiously surrendered to the will of Sergeant Hakeswill and so he slowly coloured as he gazed towards the west. Lawford was popular, but thought to be weak, though Sharpe was not so sure of that judgement. He thought the Lieutenant was still finding his way among the strange and sometimes frightening human currents that made up the 33rd, and that in time Lawford would prove a tough and resilient officer. For now, though, William Lawford was twenty-four years old and had only recently purchased his lieutenancy, and that made him unsure of his authority.
Ensign Fitzgerald, who was only eighteen, strolled back from the column’s head. He was whistling as he walked and slashing with a drawn sabre at tall weeds. ‘Off in a moment, sir, ‘ he called up cheerfully to Lawford, then seemed to become aware of the Light Company’s ominous silence. ‘Not frightened, are you?’ he asked.
‘Saving their breath, Mister Fitzgerald, sir, ‘ Hakeswill snapped.
‘They’ve got breath enough to sing a dozen songs and still beat the enemy, ‘ Fitzgerald said scornfully. ‘Ain’t that so, lads?’
‘We’ll beat the bastards, sir, ‘ Tom Garrard said.
‘Then let me hear you sing, ‘ Fitzgerald demanded. ‘Can’t bear silence. We’ll have a quiet time in our tombs, lads, so we might as well make a noise now. ‘ Fitzgerald had a fine tenor voice that he used to start the song about the milkmaid and the rector, and by the time the Light Company had reached the verse that told how the naked rector, blindfolded by the milkmaid and thinking he was about to have his heart’s
desire, was being steered towards Bessie the cow, the whole company was bawling the song enthusiastically.